


Solace of a Forger

by Excavatrice



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Dreaming, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Making Love, Multi, Orgasm, Stalking, Stress Relief, loving, too much loving, virtual love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excavatrice/pseuds/Excavatrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames really need some dreamtime alone. Kind of alone. He is always alone, never alone.<br/>Sometimes stuff you don't want to share, comes up in a shared dream.  A member of your team is projecting embarrassing memories. Everybody politely  tries to ignore it. But the forger can't. The forger must observe all times. He absorbes the secrets in the corners of the shared consiousness.<br/>Eames knows too much, feels too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace of a Forger

**Author's Note:**

> Tom Hardy obsession, continued.  
> Edited into chronological order.

Solace of a Forger.

They had rehearsed the inception heist in a series of shared dream sessions, in pairs or smaller groups. Yusuf needed to adjust the chemicals for each of them. Only once had Eames had the chance to go with Ariadne on a duet trip. Cobb asked him to prepare her to the characters he'd use on the trip.

He had shown her the transition slowly. He had made his Arthur impersonation, maybe showing off, or maybe wanting to feel inside how she reacted to Arthur. He had made Arthur in many private dreams already. He didn't only observe their targets, he observed everyone, and especially his business partners.  
Sometimes he forgot, that his close relationship to Arthur was really one sided and all in his own mind. Arthur felt like a partner to Eames, he had an urge to protect Arthur, but also tease him and dominate him.  
In Eames' dreams, Arthur loved to be commanded to do things, like taking his clothes off while Eames stayed clothed, like position himself the way, Eames told him in a tone slightly lower than his usual voice. The dream-version of Arthur liked to feel that Eames was the stronger man. He liked to fight a bit and being forced down, on the floor, on the bed, on ice bear furs or synthetic carpets, and fucked in the instant readiness and the wetness of the dreamscapes. 

He'd noticed Ariadne tilt her head, puzzled, when intimacies slipped. He could almost hear her think: Are they? Or are they not? And what about me, then?  
She was certainly attracted to Arthur, Eames concluded. She liked how neat and organized and polite he was. And young, not many years older than her. Eames saw how her eyes rounded when Arthur entered their workshop, how she felt free to chatter with him. It could be love, depending on your definitions.  
Eames noticed, that she was also reacting to his own presence. But with an uncertain tension. She wordlessly handed him her layouts, afraid of a witty retort if she dared to speak. He really tried to nice to her, tried to praise her excellence as an architect, but somehow only succeeded in intimidating her more.  
In their only shared dream, he watched her perception of him in a mirror: A handsome, but badly dressed demon, an impossible Penrose construction, a puzzle she couldn't solve, a labyrinth she was lost in. Ah, – he thought. She does desire me. Also some kind of love.  
Eames were always in love. When he was stalking his subjects, his feelings sooner or later turned to love, he couldn't work without feeling this intense sympathy. He had a standing reservation in his contract, freeing him for dealing with incompatible people. He'd only needed to use it once. With careful observation came understanding, and true understanding lead inevitable to love. He never met any of the other few forgers, so, he doesn't know, if this is normal behavior for a forger. 

Disguised as Arthur, Eames kissed Ariadnes cheek. ”Can you tell the difference,” he asked and transitioned slowly back into himself, leaving Ariadne speechless and blushing.  
Maybe she's right and there is a devil in me, he thought.  
He showed the now distracted Ariadne the rest of possible personas he'd prepared for Saitos assignment. She was projecting heavily now, the dream was close to collapsing prematurely. She was also projecting subconsciously, sending both feelings and senses, taking him with her into a confused morning dream, giving him the first female orgasm he'd ever tried. 

They abruptly awoke, gasping, laying in the deck chairs standing side by side in the neon lit workshop.  
”Was is me? I don't know what happened, I'm so sorry” Ariadne said.  
”Ah, no need to say that, Flower, this happens from time to time. Just a shared wet dream. It's because you are so young. Don't think about it.”  
”Have you ever tried this before then?”  
”Yeah, but not with a woman, though.” When Eames was awake, he couldn't help being earnest.  
”When? With who?”  
Eames, master of forging & deception in dreams, had to answer truthfully: ”Arthur. 5 years ago.”  
”Oh.” Ariadne contemplated this for a while. ”But what if it happens when we do the job?”  
”It will not, I promise, I won't provoke it. You will be too busy with other things.”

”Sure?,” Yusuf asked.  
”Yeah, I need it.” Eames answered.  
” Don't go to deeper levels alone. Don't be a vegetable, when I wake you up, please. Don't do that to me.”  
”I promise, Dear, I won't.”  
”I can go with you.”  
”Na. It's a forger-trip. I need to de-forge. You know.” Eames didn't want to elaborate. Sometimes stuff you don't want to share, comes up in a shared dream. That's why extraction teams need to be carefully chosen. A certain indulgence is needed. A member of your team is projecting scary and embarrassing memories. Everybody politely tries to ignore it. But the forger can't. The forger must observe all times. He absorbes the secrets in the corners of the shared consiousness. Or he would't be the forger.  
Yusuf understood. This was not the first time. He said: ” Ok, you'r going under. … Now.”

Eames was in an early sketch Ariadne had made for the Inception heist. He had deemed the concept too abstract, too poetic for a type like Fischer. Some days later he took the drawings from Ariadnes bin, smoothed the paper balls before he put them in the pocket of his light brown jacket.  
Now he was in a floating bubble in a world of bubbles. Maybe the rose sky and the smell of flowers was his own contribution to the dream universe; the sketches had not been coloured when they were discarded. He moved the bubble by rolling it sideways, like he was in a kind of hamster wheel. The bubble collided with a larger bubble and melted into it. He looked through the thin and multicolored swirled walls of the bubble and saw a bubble some distance away with another person in it. Ariadne! He smiled and moved his bubble in a new direction.

In his private dream he will provoke his memory of Ariadne to have those feelings again, that he promised he'd never arouse again. He is crowded with emotions of others. Young and sweet Fisher and his alluring porcelain skin. Lovely Arthur of course, everything he says and does, Yussuf his dearest friend, Cobb, the tormented, oozing dark attraction, and even Cobbs sexy ghost-wife permeates him.  
He will be both Ariadne and Eames when he reaches her bubble. 

This time will he be gentle, now he knows her, he will not scare her by mistake. She will wear her silly university outfit, no, a nightgown, silken, and he will touch and feel the warm skin through the fabric. She will unbutton his shirt, she will take a deep breath to smell him, kissing his chest, while he kisses her hair, her ear, her mouth. She laughs, she sighs, she will be letting her hands glide through the chest hair, both hands following the outer line of his body, down, finding his cock, nah, not yet, first he will kiss her between her legs, greedily, until she trembles, opening, her cunt lips parting, everything so ready.  
He can see them both from outside, their bodies deforming the semi-transparent bubble, he can see himself through her eyes, no longer a monster, but so beautiful, that he knows, she must love him too, she shares his love for all his dearest, his beloved prey. He can see into her, how she wants, how she will, and he will, and the world is so simple, and a hint of Arthur, and she is him and he is her and then Eames is himself and alone again.


End file.
